The first promise whispered in Eden was not about pleasure but about power. The “adulterous woman” of Proverbs is not merely the lure of flesh; she is the same ancient voice dressed in new colors—the desire to seize what belongs to God. Her invitation is self-worship disguised as freedom: intimacy without obedience, wisdom without humility. Yet the moment we reach for divinity apart from dependence, the garden empties. Paradise turns to exile; the bed of stolen sweetness becomes a tomb.
Proverbs functions not only as a manual for righteous living but also as instruction in just rule—a father’s legacy to a future king. The adulterous woman’s call echoes the serpent in Eden: “You will be like God,” becomes, “Come, let us take our fill of love until morning.” Both express the same grasping spirit: to take rather than receive.
The image of “another man’s wife” reveals the metaphor’s deeper meaning—lust not merely for flesh but for power, for the throne of God Himself. As Lincoln observed, “If you would test a man’s character, give him power.” And indeed, “power corrupts,” for the heart easily disguises ambition as virtue.
The Fall, at its core, is the story of human arrogance. Much of the Old Testament transmits truths through ancient oral traditions—the long apprenticeship of a people learning how to hear God. Across civilizations, kingship and divinity intertwined; even the papacy bears traces of humanity’s impulse to sanctify authority. Perhaps God, knowing the peril of this, sought to teach us early that only Love can rightly rule.
To love power is to commit spiritual adultery—to betray our covenant with God, with neighbor, and with Creation itself. God is God because God is Love, and only Love governs justly. History leaves no doubt that we cannot rule ourselves by pride.
Yet in Christ, God has given us the means to unlearn our arrogance and recover Eden—not by seizing, but by surrendering; not by becoming like God, but by belonging to God. The path home is not mysterious. It has already been walked. In Jesus of Nazareth—the Word made flesh—we are shown exactly how humanity was meant to live: humble, merciful, undefended, fully open to the Father’s will. Nothing in His way of life is beyond our reach, for He was as fully human as He was divine. His perfection was not flawlessness but wholeness—a life ordered by love, in right relationship with God, neighbor, and Creation.
To follow Him, then, is not to mimic the impossible, but to rediscover what we were always capable of. Eden is not behind us—it waits wherever love rules without pride.
Reflection by Leo Baird, CFC Candidate